


Going Nowhere Fast

by Dana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, silliness and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dana/pseuds/Dana
Summary: ‘Can we go someplace high so I can jump off it?’





	Going Nowhere Fast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/gifts).



> Prompt response ficlet for **Loz** that I meant to post here forever ago!

'Can we go someplace high so I can jump off it?’ Nat and Steve have been inside the convenient store for what seems like fifty years, and it’s flat out there for at least a hundred dusty miles, so good luck with any of _that_. Sam’s not actually going batshit crazy because he’s jammed into the back of yet another tiny car with the same exact ex-assassin sitting to his left. Only he is, since Nat called shotgun and apparently that lasts for the whole entire trip, and Bucky’s practically climbed onto him in an effort to be an obstinate ass. And yeah, he is, seeing as Steve hadn’t been in the mood to rent an SUV because it wasn’t like they were going to be traipsing cross county or anything, right? Just as fucking stubborn, in his own way.

'Only if you promise me that we both go down together.’

Sam snorts; either Bucky’s just made a super lowkey suicide pact with him or he’s stumbled onto yet another ancient to everyone else but new to him band to obsess over for a week before Steve introduces him to something new. They’re both really into that sort of thing. It’s got to be the latter, obviously – Bucky, already leaning into him with pretty much all of his weight, leans in some more.

'The Decemberists, man, really?’

'You know them?’

'Yeah, my sister used to have a thing for them.’ Sam peers out the window. 'We should have gone inside with them. They’re gonna need help carrying out all the junk food and pop.’ They won’t be able to put it in the back seat – not with Sam taking up one corner of it, and Bucky and his stuff the rest of it. A few extra blankets. Bucky’s backpack, with his journals and writing utensils and… well, everything else he likes to keep with him. He’s really a very private man, Sam understands that completely.

Bucky deadpans. 'Steve can stop helicopters from moving using only his bare hands. I think they’re gonna be okay.’

'Yeah?’ The heat is creeping up Sam’s neck. Bucky’s never seemed so close. Sam had made a big proclamation five states back, that Bucky could do whatever he wanted to make him move, but Sam wasn’t gonna budge from the better side of the back seat. This, then – so much touching, accepted, allowed, well within parameters – is Bucky giving Sam exactly what he’d been asking for, and from the very start. It isn’t even annoying him a little. Actually, it feels really nice. Steve and Nat could stay in that store forever, being stuck in the back seat with Bucky really wasn’t as bad as all that.

'Right, okay. They’ll be alright.’

'I really like this album. Here.’ He’d only been using one of the earbuds. The one closer to Sam, he holds out. 'Want to listen?’

'Sure,’ he says, why would he have ever said no? Bucky closes his eyes and leans into him completely, fully at ease; is he sleeping? No, just listening to the music that Sam can’t even make himself pay attention to, eyes shut, humming beneath his breath. Sam’s heart shakes about in his chest, and god, it aches. 'You’re heavy.’

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just grins. That’s when Sam knows he’s really lost, only, maybe he should count it as a win?

He doesn’t startle when Nat and Steve climb back into the car after unloading their shopping into the trunk, even when it feels like another fifty years have gone by, and it should have been a hundred. Nat’s grinning back at them and Steve’s smiling, bright as the fucking sun shining out over all that dry, dusty land. 'Shut up,’ Sam growls, but really, there’s no heat behind it, and it’s not like they’ve said anything yet, and he _likes it_ , dammit, he likes it a lot; he’s really got no one to blame but himself. 'And don’t you even think of – ’ too late. Nat had taken out her smartphone, snapped a quick picture.

'Stark’s gonna love this – winterfalcon is a go.’

Steve turns his head away to start up the car, and Sam’s stuck where Bucky has him trapped as he steers the car back out onto the road. There’s no jumping away from this, nothing high enough he could climb to ever get away. And he doesn’t want to, and that’s that.

Steve, though, has to have the last word (and Bucky chuckles, 'cause no, maybe he feels as leaden as the dead but he’s still not asleep). 'Hey, at least they’ve stopped fighting about who sits where.’


End file.
